


Losing The Purest Of What's In Your Heart.

by dontbecruelx



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Blood, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Depression, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Eating Disorders, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, It's so depressing, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Post Garden of Light, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, check tags, heavy drug use, please don't read this if you're in a bad place, post Gol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-14 02:49:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20593448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontbecruelx/pseuds/dontbecruelx
Summary: !!! Please read all the tags before continuing !!!There were nights when they’d share lines or opiates together, taking it in turns to shoot each other up in whatever veins they could find that hadn’t collapsed.Pass out together on his bed intertwined and forget the misery that was surrounding them for the night, a misery neither of them could escape.Guilt neither of them could escape.Why were they still alive?





	1. Losing my life

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't read this if you're in a bad place or have struggled with things mentioned in the tags. 
> 
> This is depressing.  
This could be triggering for some.  
Kind of vent fic.  
I spewed all this out in one go & I'll probably regret it later.  
This is also my first work in this fandom, which is kind of ironic that THIS is what I end up writing.  
It's just something I've been thinking about for a while.  
Forgive me for this awful creation ;;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were nights when they’d share lines or opiates together, taking it in turns to shoot each other up in whatever veins they could find that hadn’t collapsed.
> 
> Pass out together on his bed intertwined and forget the misery that was surrounding them for the night, a misery neither of them could escape.
> 
> Guilt neither of them could escape.
> 
> Why were they still alive?

Eiji was tired.

Tired of working.

Tired of pretending everything was okay.

Tired of eating.

Tired of hiding.

Tired of everything.

The only place he could be himself was in this apartment he shared with his friend.

Years had passed, but everything remained the same.

If anything, the hole bored deep into his heart just grew bigger and deeper by the year.

He was empty, truly broken and never to be fixed again.

He spent his morning sitting on the window ledge, gazing at the skyline from high in their top-floor apartment. He slowly sipped his coffee as though he hadn’t been up all night and lazily held the joint in his hand he’d rolled the night before in preparation for what always was the horrible realisation he was still alive.

He was still alive, but he wasn’t.

He took his lighter & brought the joint up to his mouth along with his legs to his chest after putting his coffee down on the windowsill.  
He lit it and took one long drag.

Even buying the best stuff he could get his hands on never quite took the edge off of these morning realisations.

He didn’t want to be here, but he was.

Why was it always the best people who got taken away and the cowards who got to live?

Why was it the people who had the least will got to walk another day on the earth?

He pondered these things every morning, pondered when he’d finally get the courage to overdose on purpose or cut deep enough that everything would go away and he’d be able to rest at last.

But he never could get that far.

Every time he was brought back up from the pits of this hell and taken to the hospital or rehab, every time Sing would come home and tend to his cuts and attentively clean up the mess he’d made while he was at work.

He said nothing other than quiet words of reassurance.

“It’s okay.”

“Tell me if it hurts.”

Words Eiji didn’t want to hear and words that never quite went in.

Words that meant nothing to him now.

His head started to feel light as he leant back on against the wall, wondering to himself what he’d do today.

What he’d take today to make the time go faster and dilute all the thoughts he could never seem to slow down in his head.

He didn’t want to do this anymore.

Every morning he wondered why he was still here, why Sing hadn’t left.

Why he hadn’t got sick of picking him up off the ground and cleaning his cuts.

Cuts.

That was when his eyes trailed from the sky and over to the wooden box beside his bed.

That’s what he would do today.

After finishing his coffee he put out the last of his joint in the leftover liquid of his cup and lazily got up, walking over the mess of his room, over the dirty clothes and plates of food that sing kept preparing but he never ate.

He was so skinny now.

His last outpatient treatment had ended and he’d refused therapy this time.

He wasn’t at a healthy weight; he wasn’t in the right headspace but he didn’t care and as long as no one could prove that he was crazy, as long as Sing kept his promise not to send him away again nothing else mattered.

Before he’d had the chance to think he’d plopped down on his bed next to his bedside table and opened the tattered box.

Inside it was a mix of needles and razor blades, drugs ranging from weed to opiates, prescription medication he never took other than to get high.

His eyes immediately went to the rusted blades, still smeared with his blood from their last meeting a few days before.

He gently picked one out as if it was something precious.

His favourite blade that he’d treasured for so many weeks was now rusting, but he didn’t care.

He’d lost all motivation to keep them clean, he didn’t care if his cuts got infected or if the blade was blunt, if he pushed hard enough it would do the job.

He sat cross-legged on his bed, sheets that used to be white were now black because he was tired of looking at his own blood and vomit and he could only get Sing to change them so often, he didn’t want to keep bothering him.

Although Sing would check on him every day, morning and night before and after work to ensure he wasn’t dead, to ensure he wasn’t living in a complete pit.

He’d do his best to clean up, to make sure Eiji was eating and drinking but there was only so much one person could do, and Sing wasn’t exactly in the best place either.

There were nights when they’d share lines or opiates together, taking it in turns to shoot each other up in whatever veins they could find that hadn’t collapsed.

Pass out together on his bed intertwined and forget the misery that was surrounding them for the night, a misery neither of them could escape.

Guilt neither of them could escape.

Why were they still alive?

Sing still went to work some days, someone had to pay the bills, but it was becoming less and less frequent, just like what had happened to Eiji before he had his latest breakdown.

He’d lost all passion, the passion that had taken him years to reignite after Ash died, but something would happen or a memory would return and he’d be back to square one.

He stared down at his legs in disgust.

There was still so much space, so much undamaged skin and he hated it.

He was always in a trance like this, slowly slicing the skin on his thighs open, watching blood trickle out over his legs and onto his already dirtied sheets.

He made sure to cover as much ground as possible, cutting deep but not deep enough to where he’d need stitches, just deep enough to scar him and remind him he was alive, which was even more horrible.

It was sick; he was sick.

He didn’t care though. He dragged the blade across his legs, taking it in turns on each thigh every time one got too covered with blood to see the marks.

He was tired.

So tired.

Empty tears welled in his eyes which were already blown, he kept going until he felt satisfied.

Until he felt he was adequately covered.

Until he felt he’d given himself the pain he deserved.

He used his blanket to wipe away the blood and hissed when it dragged over his new wounds.

Then tossed the razor to the ground.

“Damn it.”

He breathed.

His favourite razor was ruined & he was hurt.

But it wasn’t as ruined as he was.

His eyes went to the box again, this time to a white powder and a rolled up note.

Maybe if he took this, he’d be able to sleep.

It was difficult for him to shoot himself up so he settled on tranquillisers. Ketamine to be exact. His tolerance was high by now, almost nothing worked on him.

So he racked himself up a big line on the bedside table and snorted it in one go before flopping his head back and letting it hit the back of his throat.

This would let him go for a while, disassociate until Sing could come and shower with him.

He covered himself under his bloody blanket and leaned back in bed, finally beginning to feel the effects.

Finally losing himself.

It was truly beautiful for Eiji.

He watched the ceiling morph contently as the morning went on, occasionally putting his hands in the air and watching them too, feeling like he was in third person and not really there anymore. He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep but a soft voice and a hand touching his face gently awoke him.

“Baby... can you wake up for me?”

His eyes fluttered open to Sing sitting beside him on the bed, stroking his hair out of his eyes.

He almost smiled. As close to a smile as he’d ever get anymore.

“Hey.”

He breathed.

“You’re back.”

“Yeah, sorry I’m late, I had to grab some things for us on the way home.

We’re gonna have a good weekend. Promise.”

Sing forced a smile. Eiji wondered what treats he’d brought back today.

“Mhmm. Good.”

He was still half high, he didn’t know how long he’d been asleep but the sun was setting now and his wounds were beginning to sting.  
What he hadn’t noticed though is that Sing was smoking a blunt in his other hand, his sense of smell wasn’t great these days but he soon perked up when he saw it.

Sing noticed his interest and took a long inhale before leaning down and pressing his lips against Eiji’s, exhaling the smoke into his friend's mouth.

Eiji let an arm flop lazily around Sing’s waist.

It tasted good.

They were still for a while, silently passing the blunt between them until it was almost at the roach, watching the sun set behind the clouds.

When they’d finished it Sing took a deep breath and stood up from the bed, extending his hand to Eiji.

“I know you made a mess while I was gone. Shower?”

He asked quietly, Eiji was sleepy again, but he knew he was right and he knew Sing wouldn’t let him do anything else until he was clean.

“Mhmm. Hurts.”

He replied again quietly, his pupils making his eyes look black in the evening light as he took Sing’s hand and dragged himself up out of the bed. His thighs felt sticky and his entire body was too heavy for him, when in reality he was tiny.

“Let me clean you up.”

Sing spoke calmly, he’d seen this all before. It was nothing compared to what he'd found some days when he returned home. He lead Eiji into the bathroom and turned the shower on to heat up.

“Lift your arms for me, baby.”

His voice was so soft, so tender.

Eiji did as he was told, letting his shirt fall off of his body, he let his hands flop to his sides and then just stood there, staring at himself blankly in the mirror behind Sing as he removed his boxers.

He placed his hands on Eiji’s shoulders and guided him to the shower chair.

This was routine.

Eiji sat down & let the water fall over his face. Sing soon followed after undressing himself, but first he’d left to get clean towels, rags and a bottle of juice for Eiji.

“Drink this while I wash you and clean your cuts, okay?”

He said as he came under the stream of water and handed the bottle of apple juice to Eiji.

“Kay.”

His voice always sounded so dead, so empty. He just did as he was told. He wanted to be clean so he could get back in bed, use again and fall asleep once more.

Eiji sipped at the juice as Sing wiped clean all of his cuts and then started on everywhere else, working his way from his head down to his toes, lathering him all over.

This was their sick idea of self care.

The juice was making his stomach ache and gurgle considering all he’d consumed all day was coffee and ketamine.

“We’ll eat something light after this okay? I promise I won’t force anything big on you.”

Sing spoke his usual reassuring and calming words while he rinsed Eiji off.

“But first I need to dress some of these pretty things.”

He whispered, dragging one finger along one of Eiji's thighs and making him hiss.

Eiji sat quietly and watched Sing wash himself after that, not moving from the chair and with one hand on Sing’s leg while he waited for them to be done so he could dress him. Sing guided him out of the shower and towel dried his hair.

“Wait here.”

He told him again as Sing disappeared out into the bedroom to find some clean clothes for them both.

Eiji just stood there looking at himself in the mirror with nothing but a towel over his head.

Thinking everything and nothing.

He was tired.

He wanted to go to sleep.

Why was he alive again?

Sing returned with the first aid kit, took Eiji’s hand and guided him back to the bedroom, they were both still kind of wet and very naked but Sing let him sit down on an armchair in the room's corner, removed the towel from Eiji’s head and used it to cover his bottom half, lifting it slightly so he could see his thighs to dress them.

His hands were so gentle as he put antiseptic and gauze over the cuts, ensuring to cover all the bad ones and make sure they didn’t get infected or worse.

Eiji didn’t react at all, he was just watching Sing intently before he spoke.

“I want to smoke.”

He said bluntly.

“Not until after you’ve eaten”

Sing was stern as he covered the last piece of gauze with tape and slipped Eiji’s boxers over his feet. He left them there as he put a black t-shirt over Eiji’s head and put his arms into the holes for him.

“Stand up.”

Eiji followed his orders and pulled his boxers up to cover himself, letting the towel fall to the ground.

“There're sandwiches in the kitchen. Go get one.”

He pointed in the door's direction lazily while he dressed himself as well.

Eiji hesitated.

“I’m coming. Go get one.”

Sing repeated himself and Eiji sighed, half heartedly walking into the kitchen and plopping himself down on the stool.

They watched TV in silence as they ate, the sandwich was dry and Eiji ended up drinking more juice than eating but it was enough and it kept Sing happy so he did what he was told.

“Thank you.”

Eiji spoke dryly before wandering back into the bedroom and sitting on the side of the unmade bed once more.

His mind began to race.

Why did he eat that?

He shouldn’t have eaten that.

He didn’t deserve to eat that.

He didn’t deserve to be here.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he began to recall past memories again, flashes ran through his head, memories he always tried so hard to repress and forget and that was when he knew.

He couldn’t think anymore.

He was too tired.

“Sing.”

He called out desperately but Sing was already stood in the doorway.

“Shoot me up.”

He said in the loudest voice he’d used all day.

Sing said nothing.

“I’m tired.”

He said again as Sing came and sat next to him, wrapping one arm lazily around Eiji’s waist while he was reaching for the box on the bedside table.

He planted a gentle kiss on Eiji’s forehead as he did so, rummaging for the spoon and a clean needle.

He noticed Eiji’s tears and wiped them away as he prepped everything; he took the needle in his mouth and Eiji’s arm in both hands, searching for a vein.

Track marks covered his arms even though he hadn’t properly used in months.

Sing told himself he wouldn’t let him do it again but every time he saw that desperate expression he couldn’t say no.

They were both as bad as each other, both as broken and fucked up beyond repair.

No one could help them.

Sing tried to keep the situation under control but it never lasted long. At most a few months before a near overdose or Eiji having to be admitted, Sing having to leave town and not visit him because he couldn’t stand the sight of the man when they’d gone to far and Eiji had to go into withdrawals again.

He’d prepared everything without Eiji even noticing, he was too busy crying and panicking, wanting more than anything for this feeling to go away, hoping this time the pain would stop, hoping this time maybe he wouldn’t wake up in the morning so he could free them both.

But if his luck was anything to go by, he’d wake up tomorrow and have to go through it all again.

“Deep breaths, baby. I found one.”

Sing removed the needle from his mouth and lined it up against one of the very few veins he could find.

“It’ll all be okay soon.”

He whispered, removing the needle from where he would inject it for a moment to plant a kiss on the vein.

“You can sleep now.”

And Eiji sighed as he felt that sting followed by the feeling of a warm blanket covering his entire body.

He exhaled deeply.

Finally.

He laid back onto the bed and let his eyes flutter closed.

Finally.

He didn’t have to feel anything until the morning.

Sing followed suit, injecting himself quickly so he could crawl into bed with Eiji.

He instinctively snuggled into Sing’s chest and they both took a nice, long breath in unison.

“Goodnight.”

They both spoke together as darkness fell on the room.


	2. Losing My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They had a routine.
> 
> One big line.
> 
> Smoke.
> 
> Chewing gum for when they started to gurn.
> 
> Another larger line.
> 
> He played around with Sing’s credit card and the white powder, making the four lines as neat as he could.
> 
> Sing returned and plopped down onto the couch next to him. 
> 
> "You always do it so good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Eiji has a panic episode this chapter.  
Read with caution.
> 
> I wasn't planning on adding any more to this but it's interesting for me to write & is letting me release some things from my own past. Surprisingly, although it's dark I'm really enjoying writing it & it comes really easily to me.  
Thanks for reading!

Unfortunately for Eiji, the next morning came.

But at least today he didn’t wake up alone.

He didn’t know what the time was, but it definitely wasn’t early.

They’d used at around 10pm yet surprisingly Eiji had slept right through the night without waking up needing more, which was an accomplishment for him, if he cared.

He woke up wrapped in Sing’s muscular arms, surrounded by his warmth. If it wasn’t for his crippling mental illness, he would have felt happy, but he didn’t. He just nuzzled into Sing who moaned in response and let his eyes flutter shut again.

“G’morning.”  
Sing planted a gentle kiss on his temple.

“Morning.”

Eiji whispered, burying his head into his chest.

He didn’t want to get up.

He didn’t want Sing to leave.

He didn’t want to be here.

He was stupid to think he wouldn’t have woken up.

He rarely came close to overdosing when Sing was the one shooting him up.

Their relationship was the definition of damaged.

They’d lived together for so long now, though to be fair spent a lot of that time as just friends, but now, they kept each other closer, did the most disgusting things together, both sexual and otherwise.

Now they were both sharing more secrets than anyone would have ever imagined.

They both hated it, they both knew it was wrong, but Sing didn’t have the heart to leave or send Eiji away, yet he loved him, he really did.

Eiji didn’t care either way.

Sure he had feelings for Sing, if he even could call it that within the husk that was his emotional state. But he depended on him in the worst ways.

He depended on him to clean up his messes, buy his drugs for him, to fuck him on the nights where he was high enough to get hard and forget his past.

Sing was in Eiji’s way.

Sing was the only thing from keeping Eiji from completely tipping over the edge and finally ending his own life.

He’d tried to make him leave before, screamed at him, told him the most horrible things. But Sing just wouldn’t leave him.

He really loved him.

Enough to send him to rehab or the hospital when need be, but not enough to say no when Eiji asked him for drugs.

Not enough to say no to sex when he knew Sing wasn’t the one he truly wanted it with.

It was a fucked up situation that neither of them would escape until one of them died for real.

Eiji fell asleep again until he heard a grinder and opened his eyes. Sing was rolling joints for both of them, not blunts, joints laced with tobacco that would allow them both to get up and function for a little while.

Eiji felt sick.

He didn’t want to function.

He didn’t want to get up to face another day. But he accepted the joint with a weak smile as Sing held a lighter up for him.

He could hear coffee brewing from the kitchen, then realised Sing must have gotten up to prepare it for him. Sing walked into the kitchen with his own joint in his mouth, neither of them exchanged any words when he came back with two big mugs filled with coffee. They both sat up together in the bed, Eiji still under the covers, smoking and taking sips of their drinks while watching the city bustle beneath them.

“I have to go out for a bit.”

The larger man finally broke the silence half a cup of coffee and a joint later.

“Yeah. Why?”

Eiji didn’t care why, but it was polite to ask.

“I need to pick up some food for us.”

Eiji ignored that part.

“I need you to pick up some things for me.”

He didn’t make eye contact, didn’t look up from his coffee, but Sing knew what he meant.

“We’re good for the weekend.”

He replied, expressionless.

“I got some ecstasy for us. We can be awake this weekend.”

Eiji sighed.

He didn’t want to be awake but MDMA wasn’t that bad; it wasn’t his drug of choice but it wasn’t bad.

Sing liked it though, when Eiji was buzzing he was almost human, he was almost at that level of what you might call happiness and seemed so much more alive.

Sing loved him that way.

It was rotten and it was wrong but Sing wanted to see him happy even if it was fake. He wanted to see this man smile, for him to talk about everything and nothing.

Wanted him to be the one to kiss him first.

The younger man helped him dress in black skinny jeans and a matching oversized hoodie. Usually Eiji would put up a fight, ask to be left in his boxers and night shirt but today he didn’t.

When they partied properly, they’d made a rule that Eiji had to be washed and dressed, that both of them would eat a full meal beforehand. This was the rule that made Sing feel less guilty, made him feel like neither of them were in danger or doing anything they shouldn’t be doing.

“I’ll only be a few hours. I just need to meet some guys for business & I’ll bring us burgers on the way back.”

Eiji nodded his head in response, now perched on his stool at the island in the kitchen, skinning up another joint while waiting for his next coffee to heat up.

He enjoyed being alone sometimes.

It was a roulette though.

Sometimes he’d be able to just smoke and lay down, other times his mind would go to places he hated then he’d spend the time deep in a panic attack, sobbing and trying his hardest to slow his breathing until his friend returned once more.

“Don’t do anything crazy while I’m gone.”

Sing ruffled Eiji’s hair while he slipped his Vans on and got ready to leave.

“Brush your teeth too.”

That was the last thing Eiji heard before the door shut behind him and silence fell on the apartment.

While Sing had been watching, he’d only put a small amount of weed in with most of it being tobacco. Sing didn’t like the thought of him being too out of it before the evening and Eiji got sick gratification out of doing what he told him too. But after the door shut, he tipped it all out onto the tray, then ground more up to make himself a blunt.

His coffee was done, so he took them both and made his way back into the bedroom to his normal spot on the windowsill.

It must have been around 2pm by now.

Eiji never looked at his phone to check anymore.

He didn’t even know if it had charge most of the time.

He never spoke to anyone besides Sing and it had become his responsibility to inform their friends on his wellbeing and what he was doing.

He was too embarrassed.

Too ashamed of what he’d become.

Too used to it just being the two of them.

That was how he liked it.

He didn’t want anyone’s interference or trying to make him seek help more than Sing did. Every now and again he’d mention therapy along with outpatient treatment, it was only when Eiji was in the depths of an attack that he’d agree, but it never lasted long.

He wouldn’t open up, he wouldn’t tell psychiatrists or psychologists what he was going through, all they could go by was his medical records which weren’t pretty in the slightest. But if he didn’t want help and they couldn’t prove he was a danger to himself or others, they couldn’t do anything.

He did well at pretending he was in recovery, hiding his arms and wrists, making sure when he went to any sessions he’d only smoke a joint and had used nothing else for at least a few days.

That was one of the many reasons he hated going.

That and he couldn’t stand to talk about his past, couldn’t handle talking about his regrets, being told he wasn’t at fault when he knew damn well he was.

He knew he hadn’t done enough, knew he hadn’t been there enough.

If he had, he would still be alive.

Time seemed to stand still for Eiji, the afternoon was going by so slowly. For the first time in weeks he was debating looking at the clock to see when his friend would return, but he didn’t, he just sat on the windowsill with his legs stretched out, thoughts rushing around in his head.

He didn’t want to be here.

He just wanted to go to sleep again, do anything to forget.

He’d given up everything.

Every single part of him, but nothing could erase the memories.

Nothing could fix his broken heart.

His breathing began to pick up and he started to panic.

He didn’t want to be alone anymore.

Didn’t want to breathe anymore.

Every time he had a panic attack, he thought maybe just maybe this time his heart would give out.

That maybe it wasn’t a panic attack and he was actually dying like he felt he was.

It was times like these where he realised how much he needed Sing.

How much he depended on him.

He could never calm himself down properly.

Why isn’t he here?

Why did he leave me?

Why does everyone leave me?

His breaths were becoming more of a struggle; he just couldn’t get air. He jumped up, flinging the window open and hanging his head out, trying hard to catch his breath, but failing.

Why am I doing this?

Why can’t I just have one day?

Why do I have to go through this all the time?

Why won’t he let me fucking die?

Tingles spread up his neck and head.

He hated this.

He could feel his fingers prickling up, tingles spreading over his limbs.

Everything felt wrong when his heart was pounding in his chest like this.

Ash.

Ash.

Ash.

Why am I here and you’re not?

Why after 10 years am I still here?

Why haven’t I done it yet?

Why didn’t I cut my wrists yesterday instead?

Why have I never used that gun?

He needed release.

He needed anything to make this go away.

He almost sprinted to his bedside table and ripped the drawer out from within it, emptying the contents onto the bed.

“Benzos.”

“I need benzos.”

He was speaking out loud now, muttering every racing thought to himself in a manic attempt at calming himself down but it didn’t work.

He grabbed a strip of diazepam before running to the kitchen to get some water.

He popped two 5mg tablets and threw them into the back of his throat, leaning his head over the faucet and gulping them down with water.

“Half an hour. “

“I just have to get through the next half an hour .”

He rushed back to the kitchen counter then began to roll another blunt, his hands were shaking and his heart was still thudding in his chest. He messily rolled up then stumbled back into the bedroom, blunt and lighter in hand he bundled into the bed and wrapped the blankets around himself but threw them off seconds later when he felt like he was suffocating.

This was a regular occurrence when he was left alone.

He curled up in a ball on his side before he sparked up, still feeling his heart skip beats and panic wracking through him from the tip of his toes to the top of his head.

The tingling sensations mixed palpitations were the worst.

“Just half an hour.”

Then the diazepam would kick in then he could calm down and forget all about this for a while.

Time went too slowly as he took deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth, the one thing he listened to his therapists say. Twitching hands bringing the joint up to his lips every time his heart skipped over itself.

It was a nightmare.

He was living in a nightmare.

Tears began to fall down his cheeks quicker than they could form when he rested one hand on his head and tried to focus on smoking.

Anything other than this.

He kept his eyes squeezed shut but more tears kept coming out as images of blood and his dying love returned to his mind once more.

Guilt filling the air, ripping through his insides.

He always tried to forget but no matter what, that man was burned into his brain forever.

He felt sick for trying to forget him; he didn’t want to but he couldn’t deal with the memories that came with it.

The sweet nights.

The fights.

The constant blood.

The best nights and worst days of his life combined.

But nothing could compare to the hell he was living now.

Nothing could top the true despair of knowing that he was still alive, but he wasn’t.

For what?

He didn’t deserve to be here.

His fingers burnt when he realised he’d hit the roach and sure enough, his breathing began to slow down, he hadn’t noticed, but it had been 45 minutes of sheer panic and manic thoughts but they were finally subsiding.

He couldn’t hear his heartbeat anymore and his hands began to settle. He tossed the dead joint on his bedside table then rolled over in bed, finally able to wrap himself in the blankets and close his eyes.

His mind was still spinning, his heart skipping the occasional beat as he drifted into a half sleep at last.

Once he’d gathered his thoughts, his eyes opened again, he didn’t know how much time had passed but he knew it was nearing the time that Sing would return and he hadn’t done the one thing that was asked of him.

With a long sigh he hauled himself out of bed before making his way into the bathroom.

He was halfway through brushing his teeth when he heard the door click open.

A slight feeling of relief swept over him.

He knew where he was at now.

They’d eat and then finally get high together for the weekend.

Dinner went by too slowly for Eiji’s liking, every mouthful seemed like a chore when he was eager to start the evening.

He always got this sick feeling and would become fidgety when he knew they were going to buzz together.

Sing did too, he was excited he’d be able to see Eiji smile soon, have a proper conversation with him even if it was about silly things.

Sing cleared away the leftovers from dinner while Eiji was picking at the skin around his fingernails.

“You wanna rack up? It’s all in my bag, my wallet is in there as well.”

Sing smiled, tottering into his own room to get changed.

Eiji quickly found the supplies in Sings bag then made his way over to the black leather couch at the back of their open plan living room, it was dark now so he flicked on one of their salt lamps.

Grabbing an old CD case he sat on the edge of the sofa, wallet in one hand and four grams of ecstasy bagged up in the other.  
Usually when they used it they'd take it in pill form but sometimes they enjoyed experiencing the effects more quickly.

He focussed solely on preparing the lines.

They had a routine.

One big line.

Smoke.

Chewing gum for when they started to gurn.

Another larger line.

He played around with Sing’s credit card and the white powder, making the four lines as neat as he could.

Sing returned and plopped down onto the couch next to him.

“You always do it so good.”

Sing breathed into his ear before rolling up a note, leaning down to take his first line.

He tipped his head back to let it hit the back of his throat before picking a pack of gum out of his pocket and taking a piece.

Eiji just watched him like there was no one else in the world.

He was fidgeting more now, growing more eager.

Sing held the CD case up to Eiji.

“For you.”

That was all the prompting Eiji needed to take his smaller line in one swift motion before following suit and taking the chewing gum as well.

“Thank you.”

It was always a weird taste having it hit the back of his throat at the same time the minty flavour overwhelmed his mouth. Sing made the next move by opening a packet of cigarettes, putting one in Eiji’s mouth, then his own, he wrapped an arm around his shoulder and guided him back onto the couch before lighting them both up, taking long slow drags while anticipation of the nights to come filled the room.  
The next line was bigger but went down easier and they were both beginning to feel the effects of it.

Eiji felt a weight lift off his shoulders for the first time in a while.

“Why don’t we do this more often?”

He asked, flashing a wicked smile at Sing.


End file.
